by Meg Xuemei X
Vladimir slowly turned.
The light from the lanterns in the nearby maple trees made his features darker and sharper. He had a strong face. He’d shed his boyish good looks during these two years on the bumpy road with her. Weighted by guilt, stricken by grief, and beaten by self-loathing, he still looked strikingly handsome. The ugliness of reality couldn’t take away his aristocratic air and breed, even though it savaged him with an often worn-out, ragged appearance.
Yet this new version of Vladimir was closer to Lucienne’s heart. God, she’d almost killed him. If she hadn’t come back to herself, she’d have driven the knife two inches deeper into his heart, killing the warrior prince who loved her more than the world and himself together.
And he hadn’t resisted her. He trusted her when she couldn’t. But then, a dark thought dashed out of the shadows. Deep inside, had he wanted her to end his life? End his suffering?
Vladimir gave her a lazy smile.
Lucienne’s breath hitched. It never got old. His doting, easy smile forever had that effect on her. But was he still hers after what she’d done to him?
No apologies could redeem her. If he chose to be free of her, he’d have her blessing. She’d made Kian swear that his men would let Vladimir go and never hunt him. The parting would break her heart, but she was no stranger to heartbreak.
She sauntered toward him, the hem of her gown gliding across the floor.
“A princess from a fairy tale,” he murmured, his hazel eyes brightening as she approached. Lucienne immediately felt better.
“There’s no fairy tale, and I’m not a princess,” she said.
“You’re more than a princess. You’ll be queen.”
I won’t be a mad queen. But she didn’t say it. It would only add salt to his wound. He would hate himself all over again for robbing her of a future.
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” she said with a faint smile.
“You’ll get well, Lucia,” he said fiercely. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure of it.”
Just don’t do anything stupid. Again, she swallowed her words. Since when did she have to hold her tongue around him? But it would come out wrong. She took the simple approach. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”
“You’re sorry,” he asked incredulously, “after what I did to you?”
“When can we get past this guilt trip?”
“When you’re well,” he said. “And you never need to say sorry to me or explain your actions.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t?”
He always loved her playful side. His gaze roamed over her with hunger, caressing her without a touch. Heat rose in her and her pulse quickened. The air was suddenly charged. She thought only Ash could do that with the Lure, but Vlad was doing it, all by himself.
He opened his arms. “Come here, crazy chick.”
She blinked, then smiled. Ever since she’d returned from the war, everyone had tried to avoid the words “crazy,” “mad,” “nuts,” “insane,” and anything related to mental illness. These nouns had become the worst profanity in Sphinxes.
She entered his strong arms more than willingly, and he crushed her against his hard chest. He didn’t treat her as if she were a fragile thing, and she liked it. One look at the starvation in his eyes, she knew he’d held himself back for too long.
“Only an idiot dares to call me crazy,” she said, “and likes me when I’m half-crazy.”
“Crazy or not, I love you just the same.” He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, as if it was long overdue and he was deprived.
When she finally pulled away, she pressed her palm gently against his chest, feeling the uneven bandages inside his shirt. “Does it still hurt a lot?”
“My heart always hurts when it comes to you,” he said, “but it beats stronger when you’re around.”
She flicked her gaze toward the scar behind his left ear. When he’d been initiated into the Sealers’ circle, her enemy had branded him with their symbol. The first thing he’d done when he’d landed on Sphinxes was remove the enemy’s mark—an arrow piercing the Siren’s all-seeing eye.
The irony was that their arrow had indeed found its target and pierced Lucienne, the last Siren.
But she wouldn’t dwell on the past. She must move forward.
She touched his face. Though the light was dim, she could still see the bruises left by his fight with Kian’s men. “If you want to keep this face attractive, you’d better stop fighting.”
He broke into a grin. “So you think it’s attractive?”
“I prefer a clean face, not a bruised, swollen one.”
“Then I’ll keep it nice and clean for you.”
“A true warrior knows when to walk away from a fight.”
“I’ll walk away from every fight if that pleases you.”
“What if I need you to walk away from me?”
His body instantly tensed, and the spark in his eyes went out. “Finally decide to get rid of me?”
“Haven’t you had enough of my cruelty?”
“The only cruelty I know from you is when you push me away.”
“I almost killed you. What if I truly kill you next time? I won’t allow that to happen.”
“You didn’t kill me. You couldn’t, even when you weren’t yourself. You stopped.”
“Kian and Ash stopped me.”
“Even if they didn’t meddle, you’d stop,” he insisted.
They all had such faith in her—a faith she felt she didn’t deserve.
“So you bared your chest and let my dagger sink to your heart to prove a point?” she asked.
“I did prove a point,” he said. “I want you to see that you wouldn’t really hurt me, so you won’t keep pushing me away.”
“Vlad—” Before she could chide him more, he pulled her into his arms. His scent of Sphinxes, her home, made her feel warm and solid. Her arms went around his waist, until he loosened his hold on her, as if remembering her frail condition.
“I’m unkind, but not delicate,” she said.
“You’re allowed to be unkind to me.” He traced his knuckle along her cheek. “And I’m not unfamiliar with that.” He chuckled at her widened eyes. “You made me eat mud when we first met.”
“There was a good reason for that,” she said coolly. “You were a jerk.”
“I still am,” he said, his eyes burning brightly. “But I love you, Lucienne Lam. Always have and always will. What you are and what you do won’t change that.”
“And I love you,” she said.
A flutter stirred in her heart, then came the pain. And her heart thumped.
Was it the Lure?
Through her bond with Ashburn, she sensed his nearness.
She looked over Vladimir’s shoulder into the darkness beyond the illumination of the lanterns. A shadow and light flashed by.
Ash, she thought in heartache.
CHAPTER 5
PARTING
Lucienne was under self-imposed house arrest in her mansion. It was bad she’d gone mental in public. It was worse that her soldiers had witnessed how dangerous she was. She’d thrown the chief of Sphinxes to the ground and almost knifed her prince boyfriend.
She’d talked to her guards, but they’d refused to be reassigned or promoted to other positions. As Thaddeus had put it, “You’re our Siren. Like it or not, we’re stuck with you. Even if you take a trip to hell, we’re packed to go with you.”
“If you pick hell,” Adam had added, “we’ll have to bring portable air conditioning.”
“Lucifer won’t be happy,” Duncan had concluded.
Aida had gotten offended that her mistress would even suggest she move out.
If Lucienne couldn’t make them leave her, she needed to get well. But the last ancient scroll that might contain the only information of the cure had vanished along with her mother. Even Ash didn’t have a memory that would lead to her.
What would Lucienne do when she w
as at the end of her rope?
Then fate took pity on her. For a whole week, she hadn’t had a lapse.
Lucienne stood by a full window, looking out. The ocean was turquoise, blending into the sky like a gem frozen in time. The breeze rattled the scarlet leaves dangling outside. How fortunate she was to have a view like this and a precious moment like now. It felt like everything was right and would be all right. Everything was fleeting in the mortal world, but Lucienne let this perfection sink into her memories, knowing and accepting that they would eventually fade.
Before she strolled toward the sun room, she checked her outfit one more time—a white flowery blouse and white pants with a wide hunter’s belt. In a rare good mood, she couldn’t wait to see Vladimir and Ashburn.
Sunshine bled into the room through the space between the branches of the red maples. Lucienne’s brilliant smile dropped at the sight of the empty room. It had become routine that Vladimir and Ashburn shared breakfast with her. Last time they’d skipped it was to duel each other. She turned to her captain of the guards with a dark, questioning look.
Then Vladimir strode into the room with a tray of Jose omelets, ham, grapes, and crispy potato skins. “I’m your chef today,” he said with a grin as he put a full plate and a glass of mulled cider on the table in front of her.
Lucienne blinked. “Where’s Aida?”
“Jesus.” Vladimir shook his head in slight disgust. “It took five horses to drive that woman away.”
Her Czech prince was in an incredibly good mood. Everyone was celebrating. Maybe her insanity had passed. They could hope. Lucienne suspected that Vladimir’s cheerfulness also had to do with Ashburn’s absence.
Had he threatened Ashburn not to come because he didn’t want Ash to try his cooking? Vladimir wouldn’t be that petty. And knowing Ashburn, Lucienne believed he would ignore all threats made by the Czech prince.
Then where was Ash? She couldn’t ask Vladimir. Was Ash still upset with her for the cozy night she and Vladimir had shared at the rooftop?
Three months ago, she’d decided to free one of them, so that three of them wouldn’t have ended up in a wrecked ship together. Better to break one heart than two. She’d believed Ashburn had accepted her with Vladimir, but he hadn’t. And her insane doppelganger had bared her feelings for him and insisted on seducing him. They were falling back into their vicious circle, her madness only making this entangled relationship more mixed-up.
Kian had said, not once, and not without sympathy, “In the end, one of them has to leave.”
She would not betray Vladimir again, but how could she keep breaking Ash’s heart?
Today, he was done waiting for her.
But she hoped he was still sleeping, either in her mansion or in his old room at the top of the castle’s tower. She sent a mental prod toward their bond, but didn’t feel it. She reached out again, and aching emptiness bounced back. Ash had left Sphinxes.
He’d broken his promise that he wouldn’t leave Sphinxes without telling her. But could she blame him? He’d heard her confession of love to Vladimir, the person he hated most in the world. Who in his sound mind would stick with a half-mad girl who could offer him nothing but constant heartache? She should be amazed that he hadn’t run faster.
Lucienne understood the logic, but couldn’t order her heart not to bleed. And it bled.
Vladimir watched her. She hadn’t been able to hide a fleeting, bleak look at the empty seat Ashburn used to occupy. She collected herself, ignoring her pang and pushing Ash to the edge of her mind. A mind was a terrible thing to lose. She wouldn’t allow her grief to trigger another mental collapse. Not after she’d held on for so long.
She must survive every disappointment.
And she wouldn’t ruin Vladimir’s good mood, which was rare lately. Ash was gone—the thought of it brought another wave of ache—but Vladimir was right in front of her.
Lucienne sipped the cider and nodded at Vladimir. It was excellent. He looked pleased.
“So how did you persuade Aida to leave the house?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know,” said Vladimir.
Lucienne smiled sweetly. Keep chatting with him. Keep up the small talks. Be more engaging. But part of her wasn’t there. It had left with Ashburn. And that wasn’t something she could control. She prayed that Vladimir wouldn’t detect her subtle shift in mood, but from the look on his face, she knew he wasn’t fooled.
He understood that she needed Ash. When she lapsed, Ashburn was the only one who could calm her. That pained him to a degree she didn’t want to know, but he never asked her to stay away from Ashburn. Instead, he put up with Ashburn’s every jab, until the day Ashburn had flown her off Sphinxes.
Vladimir was unapologetic for being self-serving, but he wasn’t selfish when it came to her. He’d once told her that he couldn’t stand any man except him to have her, and he’d counted that as his most self-interested act. He’d told her, “Even if you can move on, I can’t. Call me selfish, call me whatever you want, but I’ll not let any other man have you. You promised that one day we’d be together. I won’t release you. I know you’re a warrior of honor. As long as I stay true to you, you won’t move on either.”
“What do you want to do after breakfast, miláček?” Vladimir asked, dragging her back from the memory of sitting on his lap in the Hungarian café in Chicago.
She finished chewing and swallowed potato skins. Vladimir indeed had a talent for cooking. Who could imagine an eighteen-year-old fierce prince warrior loved working in the kitchen?
“I’ll go spy on the generals,” she said, “and see if they’re still behaving.”
~
Accompanied by Vladimir and her guards, Lucienne visited Sphinxes’ air force base.
Soldiers saluted her wherever she went. They shouted that she was one of them, a worthy warrior. She promised them a nation to give them new hope and a legitimate home. It kept Sphinxes together in a difficult time. But what if, in the end, she failed them? She couldn’t be their queen if this madness didn’t leave her. A mad queen would be the worst sovereign.
General Fairchild, Admiral Enberg, Director Pyon, and other officers joined her. Kian came as soon as he heard she was at the base. They all knew about her improved health and had high hopes that the poison had run its course.
She listened to her officers map out Sphinxes’ future—nationalization, expanding the military, and investing more in scientific research and technology.
After the air force meeting, Lucienne went to inspect her navy fleets and troops. They cheered her enthusiastically, as if she were already their Siren queen. Staying with her people, she temporarily forgot the pain caused by Ashburn’s leaving.
She’d achieved the goal of encouraging her army. At the end of the day, she was more exhausted than she expected, but she insisted on going to see Ziyi and the scientists before retiring to her mansion.
While Ziyi embraced Lucienne again and again, she didn’t forget to send Vladimir glares. Ziyi had excused herself from helping Pyon’s intelligence division track the remaining Sealers’ forces. The girl deployed all her genius in the cyberworld to search for a cure for Lucienne, but she hadn’t had much success and had become testy.
“Dinner tonight?” Ziyi asked hopefully. “I’ve been feeling lonely without talking to you.”
“Lonely?” Lucienne raised a brow. “You have a short date with a different guy almost every night.”
“How do you know?” Ziyi blinked. “You haven’t stepped out of the house for a week.”
“You have your ways of knowing things, and I have mine,” Lucienne said.
“You know all about my ways,” Ziyi said, “but I haven’t figured out yours.”
“Haven’t you sworn on your Girl Scouts’ honor that you wouldn’t put your ears on my walls?” Lucienne asked.
“I tried a few times,” Ziyi said with a pout. “I’ve accepted defeat by now. I guess that makes you the Siren, and me the one who works
for you.”
“I need your help.” Lucienne excused her guards and Vladimir before stepping into the satellite room with Ziyi. Vladimir gave Lucienne’s hand a gentle squeeze, ignoring Ziyi’s glare, and took off.
When Lucienne and Ziyi were alone in the lab, Ziyi said under her breath, “Ash came to see me before he left.” She paused, waiting for Lucienne’s reaction.
Lucienne licked her lip as dryness suddenly filled her mouth.
“He said he must go back to the beginning,” said Ziyi.
“What beginning?”
“I don’t know,” Ziyi said. “He wouldn’t explain it. He asked me to tell you not to go after him. He said not even you could change his mind.”
So she’d driven him away. Lucienne fought back the sting behind her eyes. “Why couldn’t he tell me to my face?”
“Look at them,” said Ziyi. “Both of them. Neither can think straight when you’re around. If Ash told you that, you’d stop him, and he wouldn’t have the willpower to do what he must do.”
Lucienne’s heart jerked. “What must he do?”
“Leave you to find the cure. What else?”
The last time she’d asked him not to venture out of Sphinxes to go after the scroll, he’d retorted, “I’m not a warrior, but I’m better than Blazek getting things done.”
She’d shot back, “When will you stop this foolish comparison?”
“When you stop having so little regard for me.”
“You know how I feel—” she’d said furiously, then caught herself, “—think of you. I don’t want you to leave because—”
Ashburn had waited.
He was never secure with her. He could read every human’s memories and thoughts, but not hers. The only way for him to know how she felt was for her to tell him. But how could she promise him a future together while committed to another? She’d once given him hope and then crashed it, when she’d learned Vladimir had never betrayed her. She wouldn’t toss Ash around again.
So Lucienne had never told him that she’d lose it if she lost him. She’d never told him how his absence affected her last time. While he’d waited for her to say how much he meant to her, she’d wished he could read her mind and know her heart.
